Black Sheep
by 0oZombieBubbleso0
Summary: Young Arthur Kirkland is the outcast of the outcasts and the most hated person on the entire Island of Nowhere. Why? Because he was born. He is now reclusive and to top it all off has had a crush on his worst enemy, Francis Bonnifoy, for years. AND NOW HE KNOWS! See why Arthur is hated and his relationship. Island of Nowhere, no contest only classes slang and N S E W
1. Chapter 1-The Magic of Washing Trousers

**AN UPDATE TO THE AGES OF ASTRID DYLAN AND ARTHUR WERE MADE. ASTRID IS NOW 20, DYLAN 18 AND ARTHUR IS 17**

A young woman arrives at a large steel gate rusted and covered with vines. She is rather pretty, no older than 23 with dark brown hair and rosy cheeks with lips to match. She noticed that placed in the middle of the gate was a shield with the family crest and motto, though it is hard to read. Looking to the right she found an intercom, approached it and pushed the only button available.

"Hello?" She said awkwardly into the intercom speaker.

"Hello who is this?" said a familiar, high class accented and female voice from the other side.

"Uh, this is the new nanny. This is the Kirkland residence correct?"

"Oh yes! Penelope wasn't it?"

"Yes, indeed. Is all of this your house?" Penelope couldn't see the house itself, but with the great gate and long driveway with an oak canopy; it must be a very large house.

"It is quite large. No need to fear, I'll send a car to drive you here, it will only be a minute." Then static. Penelope took her finger from the button and stood awkwardly at the gate swinging her suitcase at her side. Just as Lady Kirkland had said it wasn't long before a elegant black car rolled down the driveway and stopped at the gate. An older man stepped out of the car wearing a black coat with tails and a red bow tie. He proceeded to extract a silver key from his breast pocket, unlock the gate from behind the seal, and stand beside the slightly opened gate.

"Please do come in madam. I shall bring you to the manor." He said with an accent that sounded like he was from the east. Penelope noticed this, but said nothing, only proceeded to the car, in which the door was opened by the butler, and together they turned around and drove down the long driveway and to the front of the house. Penelope was correct, it was an immense house. It was made of bricks with white stone pillars and edging, and a balcony that overlooked the driveway. A young boy was leaning over the railing and staring at Penelope.

_I'll have to teach him proper manors._ she thought to herself waving at the boy who retreated into the manor. The butler opened one of the great oak doors for her and she was greeted immediately by Lady Kirkland standing atop a staircase decorated with a red velvet carpet. She was a gorgeous woman who had only turned 45 the following month but looked none older than 36. She had long model-like flowy golden blond hair and a figure that few are blessed with at her age. Her face showed no sign of age only bright red lips and beautiful purple eyelids that made her eyes look and extraordinary kelly green.

"Hello Penelope." she said happily and gracefully walking down the stairs. She met Penelope at the bottom and shook her hand.

"It is a pleasure meeting you Lady Kirkland." she said bringing her hand back to her luggage.

"Shall I take that to your room madam?" the butler asked Penelope pointing at her bags.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea Sebastian." Lady Kirkland said. "You do that and I will introduce her to the children if that sounds alright with you Penelope."

"That sounds wonderful Lady Kirkland." Penelope said with a large smile and a bounce of her heels.

"Please Penelope, call me Victoria." Victoria led Penelope into the Living room. There was a large TV on the wall on the back wall in front of them,on it was the morning news, and watching the news on the sofa in front of the TV were three boys.

"Boys! Your new nanny is here!" Victoria said.

"Oy, you mean Peter's nanny?" One shouted back not budging from his seat. Victoria took a deep breath.

"No, I mean _your_, all four of _your_, nanny! Now stand and present yourselves!" two of the boys threw their head back and groaned standing slowly while the third one jumped up and faced Penelope with a large smile, the boy who stood on the balcony. The first to speak was the tallest who had messy brick red hair and was speckled from head to toe in freckles.

"I'm the oldest, Astrid, I'm 20 and don't need a nanny!" He flopped down on the sofa again. The second was slightly smaller and had messy mahogany hair that covered his eyes, he had to brush them away with his hand.

"I'm Dylan, I'm the second oldest and I'm 18." he joined his brother on the couch. The last to speak was a short and bubbly boy with short, but still messy, straw colored hair and big, sweet, blue eyes.

"I'm the youngest, Peter! You're here for me probably." he joined his brothers on the sofa . "Not probably, _definitely_." Astrid said.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Penelope said, she got grones in return and a "You too" from Peter. "Did you say 'four' before?" she asked.

"Three!" all four Kirklands said with a heavy sigh.

"Where is he?" Victoria asked annoyed.

"Sleeping probably." Dylan said.

"Maybe he finally did it." Astrid said elbowing Dylan.

"Did what?" Penelope asked.

"Nothing." The two said quickly in unison.

"I'll go get him." Victoria said walking to a door at the end of the room. Penelope stood awkwardly next to the sofa with all three boys looking at her, Dylin and Astrid with annoyance and Peter blankly. She was going to ask them when they went to school but even before she could get a sound out she was interrupted by Lady Kirkland.

"JUST GET DOWN STAIRS!"

"WHY!" Another voice yelled.

"BECAUSE I'm YOUR MOTHER AND I TOLD YOU TO NOW GO!" thumping of bare feet and the click heels came sounding down stairs fallowed.

"He's not a morning person." Dylan said, Astrid and Peter snickered. Lady Kirkland appeared at the door and brushed her bangs back before walking to Penelope's side again.

"Come one now lad!" she urged aggravated. Slowly from behind the door emerged a small figure wearing black and red plaid pajama pants and a black hoodie with white exaggerated stitches on it pulled far over his face counseling it. From what Penelope could make out was _he_ had longer messy lemon blond hair and pale feet. The rest of him was completely covered.

"I'm Arthur the third oldest." He said just loud enough to be heard over the TV.

"Second youngest." Astrid said. Arthur wiped his head at him and, most likely scowled at him.

"Can I go now." he said angrily.

"You really should stay down here," Lady Kirkland said "you've got school in ten-." By this time Arthur was half way up the stairs and didn't care what his mother had to say and never did.

He thumped his bare feet loudly up the stairs to shut her up because he knew she would still be talking. He paused at his door and admired it for a moment. He had just repainted it to resemble the door from one of his favorite TV shows, 221A, and it was a striking resemblance indeed. His door wasn't four paneled like all the other doors in the manner, his was flat, and the door on 221A was four paneled so that meant he had to paint it like their were four panels, a golden adress reading 221A and a gilded knocker that was good enough to use. He ran his hand down the center and let it drop to his side. The paint had dried. He opened his door and was greeted to the sound of the credit song to his favorite movie, "Nightmares for Christmas." He considered taking it out and putting in another crowd favorite "That's Rather Unfortunate" but he did only have about ten minutes till he had to go to school so he just walked from his TV to his futon, which was overflowing with pillows blankets and a few stuffed animals, on the opposite wall and threw himself on it.

_But I don't want to wear human cloths!_ He thought. He perked his head up and saw his only pair of jeans laying sprawled in front of him. They were well used black skinny jeans. He threw his head back down onto a dreadful looking teddy bear and groaned.

"Why does the universe want me to be productive?!" he yelled before rolling onto his back and sitting up. He snatched his trousers and sniffed one of the legs. Quickly he realized what a bad idea that was considering yesterday he had to dig through the dumpster behind his school to retrieve his backpack then trudge through the garden to find the chemistry book that he had thrown out his window in disgust. He held them far away from him and covered his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. It had been approximately three weeks since he had last cleaned them prior to the other day and they seemed to have fermented under the assortment of goods on his futon overnight. They now had the slight stench of gasoline almost, yesterday's lunch, fertilizer and his colion Villain. He looked at the staircase leading up to his room, it had previously had windows on it but was now completely covered in posters.

_Like anyone would be coming to get me anyway._ He thought looking back to his trousers. He grabbed them by the waist band with both hands, still held to the full extent of his arms, closed his eyes and whispered under his breath. The trousers shined a bright white that made the rest of the room grow dark, then like a gust of wind they returned to their normal used black and stiff position. Arthur put them to his nose and took a large sniffed.

"Smells like rain." he said before taking off his pajamas and replacing them with his newly cleaned trousers.

This, magical cleansing of the trousers was a regular occurrence for Arthur, in fact it was the only way he cleaned any of his cloths. It was rather hard to get his clothes downstairs to have them washed by the maids, mainly because he threatened all of them that if they did enter his room he would curse them with everlasting menstrual cramps or the pain of passing multiple kidney stones. He didn't mind either, he prefer not to have his belongings handled by anyone other than himself, it also makes it certain none of his clothes will shrink.

Arthur looked to his clock, which read 7:45, and figured his brothers must be ready to go to school and most likely getting into the car and about ready to leave without him. He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands and his once clean eyelids were now covered in a heavy black eyeliner, grabbed his "The Doctor" themed backpack, put on his No-Star Inverse's and went to join his brothers.

Just as he had suspected he arrived just in time to see his brothers start to roll out of the garage in the same car that Penelope arrived in. Astrid looked at him after he backed up, Arthur walked forward and signaled him to stop, Astrid gave him a different signal and drove off. Arthur walked into the driveway and watched them drive away, Sebastian was at the gate holding it open for them, then he had a thought. He turned and looked at the garage, there were four other cars waiting.

"MUM!" he yelled. "I'M TAKING YOUR CAR!" he walked to the red box car, that conveniently had its keys left in it and drove it to Sebastian who was walking to the house, he rolled down the window and stopped next to him.

"Yes young master Arthur?" he asked.

"I'd rather drive with you than my mum." Arthur said.

"And i'd rather drive with you than walk this driveway again." Sebastian opened the car door and got in. "You remember what I taught you about pulling onto the road correct?" he asked pulling his seatbelt on.

"You want me to go the other way because it may be longer but it's safer?" Arthur asked pulling onto the road and turning the opposite way his brother did.

"Very well. You remember how to get to your school from here?"

"Of course."

The drive to school went by smoothly with appropriate turn signals and no directions asked. Arthur dropped himself off at the entrance to the student parking lot and Sebastian drove the car home. Now the hard part was making his way through the lot with little to no injuries. Arthur took a deep breath put in his ear buds, turned up his music so everyone lounging in the lot was a quiet muffle pulled his hood further over his head and walked. He hadn't walked more than six steps though when he was almost hit by a car, Astrid's car.

"OY! ARTTIE! Watch the road mate! Next time I'm hitting you!" he yelled out the drivers window as Daylin left the car.

"You said that last time." Arthur snarled.

"Ok then." Astrid revved the engine, Arthur stepped closer to the car. He smirked when his brother rolled his eyes, he knew he didn't have the balls to hit him. Arthur turned and continued walking, on the side closer to the parked cars though. He wasn't _that_ much of a dick, Astrid still had to drop Peter off at the Primary school and go to his own classes at university. Arthur sighed and shoved his one of his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, turning his music up a touch, and pulled his hood further over his head. He looked forward examining who he was going to pass through his bangs. He did take some pleasure in doing this, seeing them but never being seen. Well, he was seen, it seemed that every glance resulted in superlative language, rude gestures or remarks or, the worst, mimicry. He feared mimicry ever since he saw a certain episode of "The Doctor," he also didn't trust the family GPS or statues, different episode but same fear.

He passed a clique of six boys who were all dressed well with button up shirts and jeans, they were all circled around one boy though. He stood out from the other five, he was still wearing a button up shirt but his was pinstriped navy blue and he wore a brown leather coat rolled to his elbows with a hood. But the thing that made him stand out more than the others was instead of his hair being short and spiked his was long and reached his shoulders and was tied back in a low ponytail with a blue ribbon. His name is Francis Bonnefoy and he and Arthur haven't got along since year seven. When he noticed Arthur an evil plan hatched in his mind.

He cut through his clique and snuck behind Arthur,though he was very much aware he was behind him, bent his knees so he was about the same size as him, hunched over like Arthur was, pulled his hood over his head and slipped his hands in his pockets. His friends laughed as he mocked Arthur's Pidgin-toed gate. Arthur, hearing the laughter following him stopped, took out and ear bud and turned around in time for Francis to straighten up.

"What do you want." Arthur spat. Francis laughed and shook his head like it was obvious, his clique laughed along and Arthur was beginning to feel rather small.

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur." He said almost exaggerating his North-South accent. "You know exactly what we want _little_ _boy._" more laughter. Smaller feeling.

"Well it seems to be different every time you ask so. No. I don't know _ezactly_ _what jou want._" he mimicked. Francis glared at him and got closer to loom over Arthur. It was known by most that Francis was of average height and Arthur, on the other hand, hadn't grown since year six and stood almost a head in a half shorter than Francis. Arthur stepped back and looked up at him. For a second he looked at his brother Dylan, who was looking at him and turned away when their gaze meet. He returned his focus to Francis.

"Give me your Euros-er-Pounds." He said not losing his intimidating demeanor even with the slang mistake. Arthur had, in fact, six pounds in his bag for his breakfast and lunch and really didn't want to wait till 5:00 to eat again. But he felt very outnumbered and small so he knelt down, took his bag off and searched for his pounds while Francis and his clique laughed and highfived each other over their success. In fact they weren't even looking at Arthur…

He dashed off towards the entrance that passed the office clutching his bag tightly. It was the laughter and yells of "HE'S GETTING AWAY!" from bystanders that alerted the clique of his absence. They ran after Arthur who was fast for someone whose favorite form of exercise was the walk to the mini fridge in his room. The seven of them ran past Dylan, Arthur slapping him on the back of the head as he passed, and past the office, Gaining the attention of the secretary, . She may have been nearing her sixties and losing her hearing, but her eyes were trained in spotting delinquents.

"BOYS!" she yelled as they ran past. Though it was directed at all seven of them Arthur ran off and hid in a large group of students heading for their lockers and was gone. Two of the boys, Paris and Caleb, tried to continue the pursuit but was stopped.

"NO!" Mrs. Davis yelled at them. "Come in, all of you." she beckoned them into the office were the six of them fell into the the chairs in front of her desk. Arthur watched them try to fight for their freedom behind a pillar and laughed under his breath. He greatly enjoyed watching his mortal enemies get in trouble, made his day just that much better. As he watched Francis tell Mrs. Davis his story he smiled evilly. Francis was making wild gestures and threw his hand out towards directly where Arthur was standing and followed with his eyes. Arthur wiped behind the pillar, Pulled his phone out and turned it the camera to use as a mirror. He felt his heart pound his ribcage and his breathing shallowed. Francis' eyes darted the commons for him but couldn't find him and turned back to Mrs. Davis. Arthur saw this in his phone. He let go of the breath he was holding and slid down the pillar, his heart beat slowed down, he turned and looked past the pillar to the office. It was ' turn to yell at them. He leaned back against the pillar.

_WHY!?_ he thought moving his head toward the ceiling and closing his eyes. _Why him!? Why couldn't it be someone else the Elton or someone flaming like that!? Why did it have to be Francis?! _Allow me to elaborate.

You may see Francis and Arthur as the two least likely people to ever be anywhere near a relationship, and you would be right, but in year six Arthur began to mature and with that gained feelings for our fair Francis. A few other changes occurred at this time to, like seldom coming to school and only for about half the day at the most. Everytime he would come back he seemed more reclusive and shadowed than last time. He no longer hung out with friends and as a result lost all of them, one of them being Francis. Francis didn't understand and because of this he thought Arthur was ignoring him. Francis reacted with anger and the torment began. Francis fell in with his current group of friends and they would do everything in their power to belittle Arthur. Then the day came when Arthur's life took a horrible turn. It was the beginning of his seventh year and Arthur had just discovered a dark secret about himself that could only be revealed by looking at his eyes. They now shined like glittering emeralds and was very apparent in the dark. A rumor had also revealed itself over the summer.

It was believed that the Kirkland family had a curse that ran through it's veins. It was believed that long ago Edmond Kirkland killed a witch and before she died she cast a curse onto his family. She cursed his wife, who was pregnant with their third child, that her spirit will possess the child and will inherit her powers and they shall only be used for the greater evil. The wife had the child, a son, and all seemed normal and the curse was believed to be a hoax, until one night, while the son's parents were sleeping, the child murdered his older parents discovered this in the morning and took the child away to "someone who could help." When the child was asked why he killed his siblings he replied with "I have awoken." in a voice that was not his. The family was gone for a long time and by the time they returned the curse was believed to be gone. But when the boy reached his twelfth birthday the curse had returned. The witch didn't seem to have a presence in boy though but he still had the power and one day his eyes began to glow like a candle. He hid this from his parents like his parents hid his powers. Poorly. the next time the boy went to the village the villagers feared the witch would return and terrorise them once more. So they burned the boy at the stake like they did the witch. The turn in the rumor occurs when it is told this wasn't the last time a Kirkland was burned. Nearly every third born Kirkland that had the same glowing eye trate as the boy did burned. All of the third borns were boys I should add. It was believed that the curse never even existed though, for that is preposterous and out of reasoning.

Or so they say.

It was years before the burnings were forced to stop and from that point on the Kirkland's were viewed as respected but filthy and the only way to purify them was to kill the third born. So for lucky Arthur he was born to be hated. And he is.

Back to our little ball of pure hatred for the entire human race. Arthur walked down the empty hallway to "put away his headphones or go to the office." And only a mad man would actually sacrifice his music for the sake of an education, so he was going to the office. He was rather enjoying the particular song that was playing and, feeling confident that no one was looking at him, was strutting and swaying his head to the beat of the song and for once, he might have even smiled. But even if their was a fleeting smile on his face it was wiped clean at the sight of Francis walking his way. Arthur hung his head low again and got to the far side of the hallway to try and avoid him at all costs. Francis had other ideas though. He steamed towards Arthur who noticed and tried fast walking away but was caught when Francis grabbed his arm.

"I got fucking detention because of you!" He yelled as quietly as he could in a hallway. "I was perfect I was golden with the grades to prove it and now I have a detention because of your dumbass!"

_Your failing biology._ Arthur thought continuing to look down the hall. _Your not perfect or golden._

"Look at me you ass!" Arthur turned toward Francis, under his bangs he looked pitifully at him, but Francis saw a cocky smirk. He threw Arthur's arm out of his hand like it was infected and muttered to himself in his native slang. The two continued their separate ways down the hallway. Arthur arrived fabulously to the office and Mrs. Davis had a little giggle.

"Yes Arthur?" she asked.

"I was given a situation. Surrender the bliss and only light in this dark hell hole that is my music or go to the lions den, more commonly known as the office." Arthur said strutting to Mrs. Davis' desk and placed his hands on the cold surface and leaning casually.

"So of course you chose the hard and painful path of going to the office." Mrs. Davis said.

"Oh yes." Arthur turned around and dramatically swooned. "It was a treacherous path but one that must be taken if I wish to keep the purity of music!" he turned back around and stood like a normal human. "Plus class was a boring review for tomorrow's test."

"Well those are rather important you know." Mrs. Davis said looking over her glasses.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Well he's busy now, take a seat." Arthur took three steps back and slumped in a chair. left her desk and went into the principal's office.

She was gone for longer than expected. Normally in situations like this she would only poke her head into his office, say who was here and why and, in Arthur's case, a warning was issued. But this time instead of poking her head in she entered the office, fully. It would be a lie to say that Arthur kept his don't-care attitude as he saw her figure leave because he in fact felt very nervous. He had troubles getting to and from school already he didn't need anything to interfere or make things worse. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees and waited for to come and, please lord, tell him he had lunch detention worst case.

As she entered the room Arthur sat up and looked at her like a patient who found a "lump" would look at his doctor.

"So I get off with a warning right?" asked Arthur.

"No, the policy is three warnings and you get a detention." Mrs. Davis said simply. Her tone changed from friend to professional. "You have accumulated _three_ warnings, therefore you now have-"

_Lunch detention! Please, please lunch detention! _Arthur though with anticipation.

"Detention after school today." Arthur was screaming his lungs out on the inside. Most everyone hated him, but the people who hated him _most_ got regular detentions and were most likely to be there today. He kept his composure as his mind continued it's defining cry of sorrow. In order to further keep his composure he tightly smiled crossed his ankle over his knee and placed his chin in his hand that was resting on his bent knee.

"Ok," he squeaked. "I won't have a ride home."

"We'll be calling you parents anyway to inform them that you have detention." said.

_Won't matter no one's going to come anyway! Stupid bitch. _Though Arthur. "Ok." He squeaked again then left.

He didn't return to class like he was supposed to, class only had ten minutes left and he needed this time. Instead he went to the boys bathroom on the second floor at the end of the Freshman lockers. No one ever used that bathroom, toilets are always being clogged by nothing the sinks hardly work and the urinals are a disgusting yellow, purposely painted. When he entered he didn't wait for the heavy door to slowly shut, He,using all his body weight, shoved it shut. When the door was closed he was on his hands and knees and breathing heavily. He wanted desperately to cry out of pure rage but didn't allow a single tear to escape. He quickly got to his feet and, running his fingers through his messy hair, paced the length of the bathroom muttering increasingly rude things to himself.

This isn't anger that came from getting detention, this has been built up over the past week or two. This anger is from the neglect of his parents verbal abuse from his brothers and practically everyone and the fact that his crush still hated every inch of him right down to his very black sole. Thinking of that in particular broke something in him,perhaps his small heart a little more, and he yelled at the top of his lungs. The bathroom is relatively soundproof but in neighboring classrooms distracted students were jolted out of their day dreams at his yell. Arthur fell to his knees his hands clinging to his hair as if he let go he was going to fall off the face of the earth. He continued his screaming but this time concealed them behind locked teeth.

_This god forsaken school is goING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME! _He thought over and over again with more anger each time.

Once he heard the bell ring he let go of his hair and dropped his hands over his face. He didn't have to look calm or try to get his composure back, this was the freshman hallway after all, the only people in school that freed him. He thought of that and smiled in the most devilish fashion. He put his hands on his lap and chuckled before he got up.

His influence was evident as he left the bathroom. The group of lockers closest to the bathroom either stopped what they were doing and stared horrified at him or got all the books they would need for their next two or three classes and got out of the hall. Arthur enjoyed this. It always feels better to be on top than bottom.

The rest of the day passed like the beginning. Arthur going out of his way to not run into Francis and his clique, ignoring class and doodling yet somehow being able to nearly be one of the top students in the school, avoid Francis, hide in the library, avoid Francis, leave.

OH! Shit, wait, no… no he doesn't leave. Yeah no he has to go to detention. So he reluctantly turned around and walked back into the school. He stood in front of the door and realized he had no idea where to go. He over heard that detention is normally held in the library so he chose to look their first. Ask ? No. Just no.


	2. Chapter 2- Screw the Closet

Chapter 2

_**Screw the closet, what has it ever done for you anyway!?**_

To Arthur's dismay he was correct in thinking that the Library housed delinquents after school. There were six tables set in the middle of the library neatly lined up in two columns with two chairs at either end of each table. There were already four boys seated at the back two tables and in front of them two girls. Arthur sat at the front able as far from everyone as he could.

_It's only a few hours. As long as this is it I should be fine. How bad could it be to just sit here anyway?_ Arthur thought placing his chin on the table, and resting his arms out on the table and waiting for to come in and conduct detention.

She came a short time later and following behind her was none other than Francis. Arthur quickly put his forehead to the table and brought his knees closer together. His face lighting up as bright as a traffic stop light.

"Sit their." said most likely talking about the open chair next to Arthur.

"I think I'll be better off here." Francis said not sitting at Arthur's table. Arthur felt his face lighten some what.

"Whichever." not caring in the least. "Now. Phones away heads up!" she yelled successfully catching the attention of everyone. Even Arthur, who put his chin back on the desk, though he could no longer see through his bangs.

"You are all here for your own septie reasons and I'm sure you all have already shared those reasons with each other. I don't care why your here or don't deserve to be. To me your all in detention and that's all I care about. Now, I'm going to be in my office but that doesn't mean I won't have eyes on you. Look around, see these cameras." gestured around the library, the only one that looked was Francis. The other six had heard this speech before and Arthur had stowed himself away here long enough to know the exact locations with his eyes closed. "The control for all these cameras are at my desk so, even though I wont be here I will still be watching." She paused before leaving the library.

As soon as she had left and the door had fully closed there was a five second silence where only the sound of the clock ticking could be heard. Then the six kids in the back continued on with their conversations like nothing had ever happened. This included using their phones I should add. Arthur returned his forehead to the table and brought his hands to his shoulders. He was using every ounce of his might to not something incredibly stupid to Francis who he could tell was staring straight at him. He could always tell, his body could at least, because he always blushed. Now it's not the kind of blush you would think. You see Arthur doesn't just have the cute blush on his cheeks and on his forehead. From his dead down to his shoulders turns an entrance and bright rose red. This isn't cute nor is it necessary in all occasions. This is one of the many things Arthur hated about himself, in his own words he says he feels like he's "blushing for three people." Rather Unattractively at that.

Arthur did,however, take a quick peek towards Francis. He was right in knowing he was staring at him. My god he looked pissed. He was sitting sideways in his seat with one arm over the back or the chair and the other was tapping on the table. He had his head tipped down and he was glaring-sorry not glaring- burning-through-Arthur's-soul-with-one-stare-ing at him through his bangs, that ended in a perfect curl I should add.

Arthur got from his seat hearing the taunting of the people in the back (they're still there by the way) and strode to the large fiction section of the library. There was a particular corner Arthur fancied above all the rest. This was the spot where they put Arthur's favorite books. They almost didn't' seem to have a genre. They were full of angst or drama mixed with the right amount of adventure or romance. Some of them reached into Arthur's mind and pulled out his dark twisted thoughts and left him feeling thoughtful. Others were light and happy, not all about romance one in particular was about being alone and happy, these always left him with a bit of a bounce in his step and he was more willing to deal with people. Oh how he loved this corner and he took great care of it. Cleanest spot in the library. Arthur felt relaxed and welcome going here he would commonly take off his hood and when he got deep into a book he had the tendency to pin back his bangs, because it is rather hard to read with straw in your face.

When he reached his corner he sat crosslegged against the back wall of books and took his hood off. He picked out a book he hadn't read in quite some time but was easy enough for him to get through in the amount of time allotted to him. He placed the book on his folded lap and looked at the cover. It was old and was faded but the words _Circus of the Damned _was still vividly colored in blood red on the cover. He opened the book to the first chapter and settled himself down. Little did he know he was being fallowed. Francis had followed a few paces behind him and was now standing extremely close to him. Arthur was aware of this when his book was overcasted by his shadow. Arthur tentatively looked up at Francis, who still didn't seem very happy with him.

"I thought that hood was part of your head Black Sheep." He said. Arthur now remembered and scrambled for his hood and gruffly pulled it halfway onto his head.

"You have some nerve little boy." Francis continued crouching in front of Arthur.

"How so?" Arthur asked.

"Are you kidding me? Your the reason why I'm here and now you are here just to rub it in m y face aren't you?!"

"What!?" Arthur nearly yelled. "What do you think this is, _The Detention Club_? I didn't show up here because I don't have anything better to do I'm supposed to be here like you!"

"... Did get you too?" Francis asked.

"No, I'm here because I was listening to my music during History." Francis laughed, Arthur didn't find this at all amusing and looked sternly at him.

"Well it's your own fault your here so you should stop blaming me already!" He continued. This made Francis instantly stop laughing.

"Woe, mood killer, how isn't this your fault?" Francis asked.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Well I wasn't the one who demanded that I give you whatever you wanted today, and I didn't force you to chase after me. That was all you trying to look cool in front of your little bubbies. The only one you have to blame is yourself." Arthur stared at Francis with a condescending smirk, Francis looked back with shocked rage. Francis got up and clenched his fist, Arthur saw this and shielded himself with his book, unknowingly knocking his hood off of the rest of his head.

"Your pathetic." Francis spat walking away. Arthur felt his heart break just a bit more, sniffed hard then dropped his book onto his lap.

"Why do you always have to be a dick to me?!" He blurted with a shake in his voice. Francis stopped cold on the spot, Shocked that someone was talking to him like that. He turned around slowly and glared at Arthur.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"Why do you _always _have to be a dick!?" He repeated without any shaking. Francis in an instant was kneeling down on one knee inches away from Arthurs noise. He glared into what was supposed to be Arthur's eyes, if he hadn't shut them.

"Why are you such a fag?" He asked.

_Nope! _Thought Arthur, it was in that moment he was through with Francis' intimidation "throw the question back at you" bullshit and all the bullshit he had put him through over the years. Arthur shot open his eyes and stared straight into Francis's.

"Why are you avoiding my question?" He said pissed. Francis jumped back and scooted backwards across the floor until he backed into a book case.

"What the fuck is wrong with your eyes!?" He yelled pointing a shaky finger at Arthur.

"What the fuck isn't wrong with your eyes?" Arthur asked leaning forward onto his elbows and resting his chin on his palms with a devil smile.

"What?"

"What?" Arthur straightened up and put his hands on the floor, if you ask me he's sitting like a cat. The two sat awkwardly staring at eachother until Francis looked around. Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" he asked leaning against the book case and resting his arm on his knee.

_He's so cool!_ Arthur thought, then cleared his throat and sat back on his feet.

"I could ask you the same thing…" he said very swav like.

"I came here to yell at you but that backfired so-."

"You got defensive and called be a faggot." Arthur interrupted. cocking his head to the side. Francis laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head.

"Uh, yeah… well if it changes anything…" He looked around one more time. "I'm kinda bi."

Arthur closed his eyes and let his head roll down in front of him and bounce slightly. He was elated that he now had a 1% chance with Francis but seriously. You can't call someone a faggot than say "It's ok I might be gay too but not really and not in that way." You know what, lets just not call people "Faggot" at all. Their problem solved.

"What?" Asked Francis.

"You…" Arthur lifted his head. " Ya... GA! You can't just say that to someone!"

"Yeah, especially to someone like you." Francis pointed out.

Arthur's eyes grew about three sizes and he froze.

"WHat!? What-wa-what does that mean!?"

"Seriously?" Francis cocked his head to the side and lifted an eyebrow, Arthur body-blushed and frowned his brow. "You are so gay. Come on look at how your sitting!" Arthur looked down and saw half of his legs and hands on the floor, he looked behind him and his toes were overlapping. He turned back to Francis

"So!?" he said "Ju-just because I sit like this doesn't make me g-gay!"

"Maybe but blushing every time I mention the word 'gay' and stuttering nervously will lead someone to that conclusion. ." Francis rubbed in. Arthur leaned back and put his hands on his knees. He looked sternly at Francis and thought. _To come out or not to come out,tis the question… Oh fuck me!_

"So what! Are you going to make my life even worse now!?" He said slapping his lap.

"No." Francis said scooting closer to Arthur. "I'm going to take more interest in your eyes."

"Seriously." Arthur said leaning away from Francis. "Not even five minutes ago you called me a faggot and now your… flirting? With me." The smile on Francis' face faded into an insecure one and his eyes slid away from Arthur.

"Yeeeeeah… well when you put it like that it-."

"What other way should I put it?"

"Without the first part." Arthur's brow sunk once more. He was so done with this shit and felt any feeling he had ever had for Francis boil away in his steaming rage pool. With a roll of his eyes Arthur got up, book in hand, and walked away.

_Insensitive dick! _He thought as he huffed away. Francis wasn't done with Arthur, infact he wanted Arthur more than before and he wasn't about to let him get away. Especially in those pants... So he got up and followed him.

"Arthur wait!" Francis called, running to get to Arthur. What Francis was expecting to do was to grab Arthur's arm and turn him around to try and woo him again. Really, again, the first time counted? Whatever. The point is he didn't get what he was expecting. Arthur isn't one to turn his back to socially uneducated fucks, especially when he has a really good comeback. Arthur turned around, stepped forward and the two ran into each other. More specifically, their lips ran into each other. Well Francis was already falling forward and Arthur pulled back so Arthur ended up falling to the floor and Francis on top of Arthur. For a quick moment the two of them stayed like that on the floor locked in each other's surprised stairs. Then Arthur lifted his head up, or back… he was looking down the hall, and started spitting. After the awkward neck kiss, kinda, he lifted himself onto his hands.

"I'm sorry." he tried to apologise.

"If your so sorry get off me!" Arthur said pushing Francis off of him. Francis sat back in front of him looking totally lost.

"What are you looking at?" Arthur asked wiping his chin.

"Uhhh… this is weird for me… I usually know what to do in these kinds of situations but now… I feel… my gut feels weird… I think i'm going to throw up!" Francis said covering his mouth with his hand.

"No your not drama queen." Arthur spat standing up. His heart beating a bit faster with the realisation of what was happening to Francis. "You have… feelings for… someone… uh, yeah. Is- is this your first time having a cru- cru- feelings for someone?"

"Are you saying I have a crush on you?" Francis asked. standing as well.

"Well your stomach feels weird and you feel like you might hurl. Common symptoms of a crush. As to who I never said but you'll soon find out if your right when I say that I detest every inch of you and if I ever see you again i'm going to punch you." Arthur turned around and walked away with his arms crossed and his head held high. Yeah you sure as hell showed him boy-o. Francis took into consideration what Arthur said and put his hand over his heart.

"Wanna go out?" He asked. Arthur staggered and almost fell over again.

"WHAT!?" He yelled wiping around.

"Well you said well find out who I have a crush on after you said that. It felt like my heart twinged when you said that and it still kinda is so I want that to stop. I figured if you go out with me it'll stop. So, do you want to go out with me?" Arthur was frozen. This man, who had just called Arthur a "fag" just about punched him and arrogantly stereotyped Arthur's actions as gay and broke his heart… just fucking asked him the fuck out. ERROR 404! REACTION NOT FOUND!

"YES!" Arthur yelled unintentionally. He clasped his hands over his mouth with pure shock. Who told him to say that!? He wasn't going to say that! He wasn't going to say anything!

"Cool." Francis said with a smile. "How about tomorrow we do something?"

"Ok." Arthur squeaked. WHO'S DOING THIS!?

"Cool." The two boys stood in an awkward silence. Francis rocking on his feet and Arthur standing as stiff as a board with is hand tightly over his mouth. Slowly Arthur removed his hand from his mouth and spoke.

"What do we do now?" he asked timidly.

"Well, sometimes we talk, sometimes we go our separate ways and sometimes we-"

"Curtain number two!" Arthur said walking into a nearby aisle of books and disappearing.

Arthur sat for the rest of detention with his head on the table he was originally sitting at thinking about the date and trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He was sure that at some point Francis sat at the table he was sitting at before but it was hard to tell if it was him or one of the hoodlums in the back. I should mention that they _have_ been there the entire time all that other stuff was going on and now their talking about it.

it was four hours later when returned to the library and freed them. Arthur was the first out of the library and to the front of the school where student pick up was. Not surprisingly no one had come for him. Arthur called his mom on his phone as the others came out of the school. Voice mail…

"Hi mum… uh, the school should have called you so yeah… if you could come and uh, pick me up in front of the school… that would… be… your not coming." Arthur hung up his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. Calling his dad or one of his brothers is suicide. He could call Sebastian but the only phone he has is the house phone, anyone could pick that up. Arthur looked towards his home, it would only be a half hour or 40 minute walk. Not to bad? Most of the walk wont be have a sidewalk. Bad. But what other option did he have? He started walking across the staff parking lot and taking out his music. He was about to put in one of his headphones when, out of nowhere, someone ran into him. After a stumble and fumbling to keep his music from hitting the ground he turned around to find it was none other than Francis who had run into him.

"Sorry." He apologised.

"If this," Arthur held up his music. "Had hit the pavement, you would be dead." Francis laughed. Arthur didn't. Francis cleared his throat and continued.

"Uh, i was going to ask you if you were walking home."

"Yeah."Arthur said simply while slowly beginning to walk.

"Let me join you then." Francis said following Arthur who quickened his pace.

"Oh, ok…" He said putting his music back in his pocket. "Don't you live on the other side of town?"

"Yeah, don't you like far out of town?"

"It's only,like, 40 minutes."

"Shit."

"By foot that is."

"Oh, well that's better i guess."

"Yeah i wouldn't be walking if it was 40 minutes by car."

"Why are you walking?"

"No one will come and get me."

Three hours ago those two were still mortal enemies. Now look at them. Arthur even admitted to himself about halfway through their walk that it was incredibly easy to talk with Francis. The feeling actually goes vice versa. They actually kept their conversation going the entire 4_1_ minutes it took to get to Kirkland Manor. They talked about their families, but that was quickly dropped by Arthur; they then talked about the book Arthur was reading, then the author, than how she wrote it in highschool and put it on some fan fiction website, then Arthur explained what fan fiction was and the different levels of fan fiction and fandoms and things you would generally find on Stumb1r. Don't worry Francis actually had his hand in the conversation too it wasn't just Arthur rambling on. Ok there were some points but for the most part no.

"How are you going to get home?" Arthur asked once they had reached the gate to his house.

"I can call my mom. She's pretty cool with stuff like this." Francis said pulling out his phone and dialing his mother.

"Oh, well i'm just going to do this then…" Arthur half jogged to the gate and tuned back to Francis. "Well… see ya i guess…" Arthur said turning back to Francis, who waved with his free hand, his other was holding phone to his ear. Arthur turned back to the gate and shook his hand out.

_Watch me fuck this up._ he thought. He jumped and grabbed onto the crest on the gate with his fingers. He placed his feet on the bars and hoisted himself to stand-ish. He continued upward climing ontop of the crest then sitting sidways on the top of the gate. He smiled widly at Francis and waved. Francis laughed an waved back.

_Now, now I'm aloud to show off. _He thought flipping his legs to the otherside of the gate. He thought of some rather acrobadic things he could do, most of witch involved some form of flipping. He decided on something simplier thought. More swager as he would put it. So yeah, his legs are on the other side of the gate and all, then he just slipped down and walked to his house.

Personaly i think that's better than anything to do with flips

but that's just me…


	3. Chapter 3 Holy Fucking Shit

Arthur was practically skipping when he reached the front doors of the manor. His face hurt from smiling and he didn't seem to matter much. He was so happy in fact that when he entered the house he let out an excited scream.

"What on God's green Island was that?!" asked the voice of Astrid coming to the top of the stairs. Arthur covered his slightly wilted smile with his sleeve and walked to his room. "Woe, Artie was that you that made that noise." Astrid asked laughing and following him.

"No." Arthur said gruffly. uncovering his mouth for a second and picking up the pace.

"No that was totally you. Your balls finally dropping or something? Oh, wait. I forgot you don't have any ya girly." Astrid teased pushing Arthur backside with his foot.

"Oh piss off ya fuck up!" Arthur said furiously before fast walking to the storage room below his room.

_Leave it to my shitty family to fuck up the one fucking time in in a good mother fucking mood the bastards. GOOD GOD JUST-FUUUUUUUUUK!_ Arthur thought storming up the stairs to his room and slamming his door shut.

He walked to the middle of his room and collapsed on the floor feeling a bit beaten by the day. It started with the new nanny, then nearly getting ran over by his brother, getting detention, finishing his third attempt at a water color painting in art, arguing with Francis, walking home with Francis, being asked out by Francis, and saying yes.

_Today is SO bipolar_. he thought tucking his arms under himself and kicking his feet up. _It's like a Paranormal episode but without death or more demons. _

"ARTHUR!" Chimed the banshee of his mother from the house. Arthur groaned and sat up on his knees.

"WHAAAAT?!" He yelled back.

"DINNER! ARE YOU COMING?!" Arthur thought a moment. Last he remembered the mini fridge in his room was empty. Might as well.

"YEAH!" He yelled getting up and going downstairs.

The Kirkland's didn't normally eat together for a few reason. The first being their dining room is huge with an unnecessarily long mahogany table and ornate chairs to match. About thirty chairs. For six people. You don't need thirty chairs for six people. Maybe if the servants ate their with them but they don't so it's pointless. Everyone knows it's pointless. Their is a perfectly good breakfast nook down in the kitchen that Peter and Dylan use normally that would fit everyone just fine. But no. THIRTY CHAIRS! Anyway the second reason.

The second reason they don't use the thirty fucking chairs is because everyone eats at different times in their own rooms. It normally goes Astrid in his room eating leftovers while doing his university homework, Dylan and Peter down in the kitchen's breakfast nook eating whatever the cook makes them, Arthur snacking from his fridge in his room, his mother forgets sometimes, and his father eating whatever the cook makes in his office.

Arthur poked his head into the dining room where everyone was already sitting at the far end of the table. His plump father at the head with his mother and Peter to his right. Astrid, Dylan and Penelope to his left. Arthur slouched and hung his head low as he walked to the table. He sat at the opposite to his father at the head of the table.

"Arthur, come and sit with the family." Pleaded his mother.

"I am, just from a comfortable distance." Smart ass. Arthur's mother leaned her arm on the table and scorned at Arthur.

"Artie, come down here and sit next to your brother." Oh god fucking damn it! If there was one thing Arthur hated more than Professor Underbridge from Henry Potter it was his nickname"Artie." Made his skin crawl and blood boil. Reluctantly he go up from his chair and sat one away from Peter; who smiled up at him gleefully. Arthur gave him an awkwardly pushed smile under his hood.

"Take off the hood lad! You're at the table!" Arthur's father demanded.

"With all due respect sir, I would prefer not to due to my horrible hood hair." Well You aren't wrong, but your not completely right.

"Or is it you butt ugly face medusa?" Astrid teased. Dylan and Peter laughed and even Arthur's father chuckled. He stopped though once Victoria slapped his shoulder.

"Markus!" She scolded under her breath.

"What? Were just having a bit of fun. Right Artie?" Arthur said nothing. "See?"

"I assure you Penelope, they don't normally act like this." Victoria assured like the lying bitch she is. "We joke around." at Arthur's expense. " "That's all."

"Ok, as long as all is well." Penelope said with a smile at Arthur. He looked up at Penelope that at his mother and to the rest of his family, none of which looked too pleased with him for some reason. He dropped his brow and looked down at his lap. He was on Stumb1 on his phone. Bad choice considering Peter was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Well…" Penelope said trying to break the tension in the room. "This is quite the lovely dining room. You must have parties and guest here all the time to have a table this large."

"Thank you, but truth be told this came with the mannor. My grandfather gave it to me in his will, almost all the furnisher came with it." Victoria said only minorly showing off her family's wealth to the low northerner.

"What does your family do to afford to give this away in a will?" Penelope asked.

"We have our hands in a little bit of everything, mainly food production though."

"Oh! Are you the Kirkland brand tea, sugar, chips and water and such?"

"Yes that's us." Victoria played with the diamond necklace that was elegantly wrapped around her neck. She likes to say that Markus bought it for her 36th birthday but truth be told she bought it for her 36th birthday with Marcus's money.

"That's a lovely necklace." Penelope said.

"Thank you." Victoria said with a glance to Markus who didn't notice as he was too busy wondering what Peter was looking at. "Markus gave-."

"Sir! Dinner is prepared!" The chef interrupted in his high north eastern voice. Victoria pouted her lip for a moment. Oh how she loved telling her lie.

The chief and 6 butlers and maids came out and set up the plates for Penelope and the Kirkland's.

Dinner was a classic Fish and Chips, one of Arthur's favorite meals, with a pint for Astrid and Markus and white whine for Victoria and Penelope while Dylan, Arthur and Peter got water. No one talked when the servants left and an awkward silence took their place. Clinking of forks on plates tried to make up for words. It appeared the only one who was fine with the silence was Arthur who was shoving another piece of perfectly prepared fish in his mouth.

"So… how do mornings usually go, Dylan?" Penelope asked.

"Hu?" He replied with a mouth full of chips. "Oh!" He swallowed hard. "Well, Ass, Pet and I usually got up around 6"30 7 o'clock and have breakfast up in the living room and watch tv till were done eating. Then we get dressed whenever we feel like it and go to school around 7:45."

"And your brother?"

"I don't know. He sometimes comes to school with us."

"When you don't leave like today!" Arthur interrupted.

"At least I didn't get detention for something stupid like music!"

"Detention!? When did this happen?!" Markus interrupted.

"Now sweetie calm down." Victoria comforted. "It wasn't anything important."

"Your right he isn't." Astrid pointed out.

"When were you planning on telling me this Victoria!?" Markus continued ignoring Astrid's comment like a good father.

"Tonight after the kids went to bed."

"Well we're going to talk about it now! What did he do!?"

"He refused to turn off his music for like the hundredth time." Dylan interrupted.

"Well then that settles it! Arthur! Your-... Arthur?"

During the commotion at the table Arthur walked out of the dining room unnoticed. Dear lord he hated his family. He much prefer to be surrounded by fictional characters and good movies and books. Not real people who yell at him.

Arthur retreated to his room and hopped on the futon. With a few swooshes of his hand he made a CD pop out of Its case and into his CD player.

_I don't even care this is the 300th time i've watch lunch club._ He thought to himself taking another bite of fish. With a flick of his hand the movie played. He was about be be really comfortable until he heard thumping up his stairs. He groaned and rolled his head back so it landed on the mess next to him.

"Arthur?" Called Penelope cracking open the door.

"Go away." He replied turning up the TV volume with his hand, unnoticed by Penelope. She came into his room anyway because, you know, 'go away' means 'come in I want to talk to you.'

"So, how are you doing?" She asked sitting next to Arthur on the futon. Also sitting on top of some of the clutter. Arthur closed his eyes and slumped his head forward. The worst question ever asked in the history of questions is "How are you doing?" Especially are expecting you to just completely open up after they ask. Like those five words are some sort of magic spell that causes someone to break open and reveal everything that could possibly be wrong with them. Hate to break it to you but no. That's not how it works.

"Fine. What are you trying to get at?" Arthur asked then finished off his fish.

"Well, you left the dining room in the middle of dinner-."

"As did you. How are you doing." Sarcasm mode activated.

"Uh… well, well that's not the point…" Penelope Adjusted herself on the futon to face Arthur more and, dare I say, rested her knee on the mess that was strewn about. Oh noooo her knees is showing from under her skirt now! Ahhhhh… sorry, anyway back to whatever the fuck she was about to say. "What I want to know is more about you." Arthur looked at her (she can't see anything that I'm about to tell you) with concern in his eyes and silently mouthed "Awe." She thought she looked awe struck with how his mouth was slightly ajar and smiled pleased with herself.

"You poor confused little girl." Arthur said. The smile left Penelope's face. "Fine, i'll tell you one or two things about myself but first, you have to tell me what you know about the others." Penelope straightened up determined to learn something about the ghost of Kirkland Manor.

"Alright, who should I start with?" She asked.

"My father."Arthur said leaning back on the mound of clothes behind him and pressed his fingertips together.

"Your father, Markus, runs part of the Kirkland business, which part I don't know he changes what it is every time I ask mother, Victoria, doesn't work but makes most of the money for the family. I'm not quite sure how…Your oldest brother, Astrid, goes to university. As far as I know he's studying to be an engineer. Your next oldest brother, Dylan, is a senior and stays in his room most of the time but I do know he likes dragons, a lot. Then there's you, and your younger brother Peter, He's an eighth grader and likes boats and sailing. He's so sweet and full of energy, so unlike the rest of you."

"We were all like that until we got to highschool. Well, some of us sooner but practically the same story." Arthur said pointing his hands at Penelope. "You did pretty well all things considered but you forgot a few things; and, since I'm assuming your staying…" Penelope nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to tell you what you missed.

"First off in the scandalous life of the Kirkland manner, my father took my mother's name. He's maiden name is Smith thought he'll tell you it was Murphy. He's trying to get rid of his lower northern past. My father is also in charge of looking over the water bottling part of Kirkland Inc. He thinks he's making money but he's actually not making any money, it all goes straight to my mother. Now my brother have a secret life so you might want to knock before going into their rooms, well, do that anyway but knock loudly. Astrid is a frequent cannabis user incase you didn't see his eyes at the dinner table and how he inhaled his dinner. Dylan does like dragons yes, and house parties and drinking and waking up in strange places leaving me to pick him up. And Peter has ADHD. That's why he so… him. There are a few other scandals among the servants and such and stealing from my family and such but you might want to ask them about those. My favorite is that they think that they think that my room is cursed, so when you leave if you could look like your having menstrual cramps that would be great." Arthur smiled pleasantly showing his weirdly sharp canine teeth.

"Now hold on young man." She said firmly. "I've told you about your family and you've filled in the details but right now the only thing I know about you is your cursed room, which will be easy enough to help with all things considered." Damn it, sewing a great long paragraph like that normally makes people forget about little things like someone's back story. Arthur's smile was smacked off his face and a disgusted frown took it's place.

*Disgusted noise* "Fine! scene you know nothing about me I'm a boy and I have nasty blond hair farewell, good day, see you later." Arthur got up from the futon and started wandering, seriously, where the fuck are you going boy?

"Hold on now you said you would tell me!" Penelope insisted.

"There's literally nothing to say about me! I'm not interesting at all!"

"For someone not interesting you sure are making quite the fuss. Now come on, Astrid told me you always wear this sweatshirt, tell me why."

"It's a good ass sweatshirt!"

"But why the hood over your face?"

"It's a good ass hood!"

"Why do you lock yourself in this room?"

"It's a good ass room!"

"Do you have anything else to say than 'good ass this' and 'good ass that?"

"You know what?" Arthur said throwing up his arms then flopping them down at his sides. "I stay up here because I know I'm not welcome anywhere else!"

"Arthur you know that not true."

"It fucking is! You've only been here a day. You don't know anything about me or my family! Who are you to say things like that?! I've never been welcome in that house so as soon as Peter came along they kicked me out here to the drafty cold room above the storage! Their! Now please LEAVE!" Penelope wanted to lie and tell Arthur that he was welcome in the house but he was right. She had only been their a day and didn't know anything about him or the family yet. So she stood and left his room, closing the door because she isn't a monster that leaves people's doors open. She kept her work too. Walking out of the storage room he held her uterus in pain, half acting half not.

Arthur yelled in frustration after she left. New people always want to know about him instead of the others. She was the first to come straight up and ask him though. Bitch. Arthur stormed to his bed and threw himself on it. He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it listening and thinking. Thinking about what he had spilled to Penelope and if she had kept her word, she did I just said she did, and wondering if she was going to tell his parents. Not that they would do anything about it though. His dad might tell him to toughen up but i doubt anything else. He was listening for anyone else coming up stairs and the Lunch club, which was still playing. He was also listening for his phone. Oh FUCK! Arthur shot his head up with the sudden realization that he hadn't given Francis his phone number.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He turned it on to the lock screen, which was the anti-possession star from Paranormal and unlocked his phone with his very-clever-no-one-will-ever-guess-this password: Fuck. Brilliant. His phone opened and, no surprise, he had no notifications. But a very lovely watercolor painting of the blood dragon from the aptly named video game Dragons as his wallpaper.

This is where it get's daring. Arthur swiped his phone to the left where his, not so, social apps were. He normally only used the Stumb1 app but not this time. He hesitantly selected the Friend Book app and waited. He stopped using his account last year when the threats from people at his school got to hot for him to handle and he thought he had gotten off. thankfully he hadn't, but also he should have considering that most things on his feet are people telling him to kill himself and making fun of him for the scars on his wrists. These are months old though and didn't really hurt him anymore. He searched for Francis Bonnefoy.

Now put yourself in his hoodie. Your entire feed is full of people who your not friends with telling you to kill yourself (which is ILLEGAL I SHOULD ADD) most, if not all, of them are friends with Francis. He should want nothing to do with you considering he liked some of these posts. But you search him anyway, and there he is. The first name.

**Y O U ' R**

Arthur's heart stopped. For like a second he doesn't die here, God.

He dropped his phone on his bed and sat up on his knees. He clenched his fists till his knuckles were white-er than they are- and a fuchsia light emitted from his palms and out from between his fingers. He held his arms tight to his chest and bounced excitedly not caring about the enormously goofy smile that had found it's way onto his face. Letting out the kind of scream you hear from a fangirl when she sees her OTP doing the snuggle in REALLY good fan art he threw himself back onto his pillow and swiped off his hood. Before touching his phone, however, he shook his hands out and the fuschia light turned into a liquid oddly and unexpectedly. After giving his hand a disgusted look he rubbed the remaining fuschia onto his sheets. He cleared his throat and clicked on Francis's icon; instantly making an empty chat appear.

He wasn't expecting this.

This is so sudden.

Is he ready for this?

With shaking hand Arthur started typing.

**Hi. **

Nailed it.

Arthur went back to his home screen and buried his face in his pillow to scream and kicked his feet on his bed. Then he waited for a reply.

He waited. He regretted. He panicked. He waited more. He got pissed at himself. He got pissed at Francis. He got pissed at his phone. He wanted to cry. He waited. Waited… d.

DING GOES THE PHONE! HOLY FUCKING SHIT FRANCIS ACTUALLY FUCKING REPLIED TO THIS LITTLE SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WITCHCRAFT!?

I should also add that Arthur wasn't waiting as long as it might have seemed. It was only like, 10-ish minutes actually. Anyway, the message.

**Hi! **

**Im glan 1 of us was smart enuf to chat.**

**I 4got to ask 4 ur number**

**guess i was kinda nervous lol. **

Francis. Nervious. Ok, seriously what the FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!?

**Yeah, i just kind of thought… **

**I don't know you seem to be the kind of person **

**who uses Friend Book a lot so i thought… **

**U thought rite. ;)**

**so, when r u free?**

Arthurs heart was already racing and that fucking wink wasn't helping him not have a heart attack.

**today, tomorrow, the day after. I'll tell you when i'm not. **

Smooth

**lol ok. 2marow is saturday so how**

**bout then we go out then?**

**sure. we still need where and when though. **

**lol yeah**

**like how bout i get u at 8 and we go 2 **

**that fall carnival thing in Brookstend**

**Sure**

**alright. **

**see u then ;)**

Arthur turned his screen off and was frozen. He let his phone go and it thumped onto the bed. After he had caught up to what had just happened his jaw fell shortly followed by his head onto the pillow.

Honestly, this being Arthur, that could have gone SO much worse.

Good job kid ;)


	4. Chapter 4 IT'S THE THING!

**Sorry about the coding being before. Hopefully it's gone for good now-ZB**

Chapter 4

It's the thing! The thing is happening!

The rest of the day flew by in a not so thrilling breeze of butterfly bellies and video game distractions. Arthur stayed up till the wee hours of the night playing Time of Dragons Inquisition, most of that time was spent trying to defeat a High Dragon. There was much celebration. And romancing the character Bull. When he was finally done with all that, around 1:00 in the morning, he flopped face first onto his bed fully dressed except his shoes and slept like a rock with visions Bull floating in and out of his mind.

He was "woken" at 7:00 by Penelope popping her head into his room and trying to wake him up with the temptation af breakfast. He pretended to be asleep until she left. Then legitimately tried to sleep and succeeded in sleeping till 8:28.

He woke slowly, opening his eyes and examining his wall then looking out his window. The Yard outside was bathed in new white light that made everything feel like Easter to him. He flipped over onto his back with a grunt and looked at his ceiling. He had painted, this painting I should say, a merrell on the ceiling full of only his favorite things and painting over things he's grown out of. The merrell had The Doctor, 221B, Paranormal, Time of Dragons (all 3 games) School for Witches, That's Rather Unfortunate, Lunch Club, and Circus of the Damned paint on it. Nothing seemed out of place and everything flowed together. It was his pride and joy. Arthur sat up and moved his head from the left to the right making loud cracking noises as he did so then moved his head in a circle and making one last loud cracking noise. He then scooted himself to the end of the bed and stood up, his hips making a pop noise as he did so. He took off his pants and replaced them with his School for Witches house sweatpants. He was Snake, what else did you expect. Arthur took off his hood, ruffed up his hair, put his hood back on and went to the manner to get the breakfast he missed and restock his fridge.

Dylan was on the family's boX 180 playing MASS DEFFECT 3 for the first time with Peter watching. Arthur had horded that game months before to play it himself and completed it a few weeks after that. He got the best ending possible with every character being his best friend and his favorite character, Gäris as his romance. Peter had watched him play it periodically (as long as he didn't touch anything and only sat where Arthur told him he could he was allowed in Arthur's room)(he also couldn't comment on anything in his room or eat anything without permission.) He made comments to Dylan about the choices he was making. Arthur stopped in his tracks for a moment and watched the conversation Dylan was in. He was angering a companion he shouldn't be with how useful they are at the end of the game. Arthur shook his head and continued on his way down to the kitchen.

It was empty when he poked his head in. Well the chef and sous chef were preparing lunch and thawing dinner but empty of family. Pulling his hood farther up he cleared his throat and shuffled into the kitchen shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Ha! Look who is is eh? The Kirkland Manor Phantom!" The chef said pointing this spoon at Arthur who took his hands out of his pockets and wiggled his fingers rapidly. The chef and sous chef laughed.

"I bet you'll be wanting your breakfast eh?" the sous chef asked moving to one of the ovens and pulling out a still warm plate of hash browns, pancakes, and bacon. "Got this for ya to eh. Thought it was about that time ya' know." Getting onto his tip toes the sous chef grabbed a large bag off the top of the fridge and gave it to Arthur along with his breakfast. Arthur smiled up at him thankfully and left the kitchen with a smile.

"Don't let your parents see that bag now eh?" The chef called. Arthur walked back the few feet to the kitchen and popped his head in. "With that new nanny about she doesn't want us giving you that food. Wants you to be with the family more doncha know."

"Yeah eh?" the sous chef added. "But we won't force you into that. So enjoy that on us, but don't let the missus know." Arthur saluted as he left the kitchen once more. He took a few steps down the hall before throwing the bag of food in the air and punching it. With a puff of green smoke it vanished.

Arthur continued up to the main floor of the house, past Dylan making horrible game choices and back into his above-the-storage-room-bed-room. Finishing off his last piece of bacon he continued walking into his room and casually plucked the bag of food the cooks had given him off of his futon and placed it inside his mini fridge. Now would be a good time to mention that the fridge is broken and was bought broken. It doesn't freeze things, Arthur just uses it as a storage.

He set himself and his plate down on his bed and dangled over the edge of his bed. His eyes swept the dark aria under his bed. But it wasn't completely dark, for one it was about ten, and two his eyes lit up wherever he looked with an acid green tint. Because magic. Finding his fucking nerd lap top with more fucking The Doctor stickers and a great big of that said "DON'T PANIC" in big red friendly letters, grabbed it with one hand and used momentum to bring himself and his laptop back on top of his bed. He sighed pleasantly and opened his laptop.

"All right. What do we got?" He said using one hand to get on the internet and the other to grab a large amount of scrambled eggs for one fork with the other. He bounced back and forth humming "ha ha ha" to himself because he was so proud that he managed to do such a useless task.

And so begins three hours of Stumb1r distraction. so, while he reblogs that Gif (g-if) set let me tell you some things that would now be appropriate to tell. This laptop has been with Arthur for close to four years. It has received in total 234 fall damage and had drowned 45 times. The keyboard has had nearly every key broken, the only exception being that weird little squiggle line thing… This ~. He doesn't use it because he isn't weeaboo trash. Anyway, with every shitty thing done to his computer, nothing is new. Everything works as if it has just come out of the box and it even shines like it had. Why? Mother fucking MAGIC BITCH! Also her name is Alistair. Named after Arthur's first Time of Dragons love. Also practically the only option.

Holy shit, I just realized. If Arthur can fix his laptop with sleight of hand why doesn't he fix his mini fridge? Well, then again… nothing in that bag of food was actually supposed to go in the fridge so that actually does make sense… Hey fixed a plot hole. Ten points.

A few hours have past now and we finally get to figure out why Arthur got on Alistair in the first place. No, no can't type that with a straight face. Ha! Something about me is trying to be straight. No, no sorry, sorry. The joke was so perfect. Ok getting back on track. I'm going to keep calling the laptop just that, laptop. It's too weird and confusing calling it Alistair.

So the whole reason Arthur got on his laptop in the first place is that he has a You Video channel that is rather popular. Appropriately enough his channel is called "Black Sheep's Bleat" and he's nearing one milling subscribers. On said channel he posts songs he's made and requested covers of songs in acapella, using household objects or instruments at his school. Most songs he has covered and made could be categorized as "Emo pop." Why? Because they are emotionally unstable pop songs. He also does Indie or hipster music too I should add. Good god what a combination. Emo Indie Hipster music. Good lord. But for some reason half a million people like his scratchy voice enough to subscribe to get two videos a week. One of which he needed to upload.

It was a cover of "What a Wonderful World" requested to be "dramatic" so that means starting out peaceful and quiet with a wispy voice then building up tension with a light violin, played by himself, and a single repeating piano note, also him. Then intense violin, drums, solid vocals and alien movie BWAAAAAAAA. Calm down in the middle, back to wispy and the violins are still kinda intense; they die down so then it's you and the piano that has been consistently playing this whole time. Then, WHABAM! EVERYTHING GOES BACK TO BEING REALLY TENSE AND YOU PULL OUT THE LYRICS A BIT A PAUSE SO YOU CAN HEAR THE INTENSITY! Go quiet. One lyric. Only wispy voice. Fade out. Gently. Sadistically.

Basically. The process of creating the video was tedious to say the least. It was about seven or eight different videos, made at separate times, all edited together and playing at the same time. The timing of every video has to be perfect and they all had to start and end at the same time. Also Arthur had to go to his school to borrow some instruments and find a time when he could play the grand piano in the unused ballroom. Not so hard if it's unused right? Dude it's playing the freaking piano in an echoey ballroom, he doesn't want anyone to hear him clank on the keys. #firstworldproblems am I right? The final step in his video creation is to upload it to the interwebs. That takes about two or three hours. Two or three house of him watching a random series on Flix. Which is what he did. He watched a recommended anime and wasn't too impressed by it so he had no trouble finishing the series (One season 15 episode half an hour long each) before returning to his laptop with the video already uploaded. He added spots on the video to click and go to other links like subscribing and shit like that.

He shut his laptop and rested his head back on his futon. Closing his eyes and sighing in relief, because your life is so hard right now, he listened. He listened for everything his eyes couldn't see. The breeze brushing past his open window, the last few birds stubborn enough to stay before the first frost, a notification on his phone. Oh shit! Arthur looked over to his bed where his phone's screen was shining in the middle of his mattress. He got up and went to his bed tentatively reaching his hand out to grab the bright screen. It was a Friend Book notification from Francis. Arthur quickly unlocked his phone and went to the notification.

hey. I 4got where we were going to meet up.

we never actually decided on a meet up place.

i was going to wait outside

cool cool sounds good

u have a rid rite?

No.

Uh, yeah of corse I do.

all rite see you then

yep.

Arthur set his phone down on his bed down folded his hand together, brought them to his chin and smiled. Then panicked. He turned his phone screen on and 5:45 shown bright on the screen. Arthur screamed and fell backwards onto his bed and covered his face.

LATE LATE LATE I'M GOING TO BE LATE! He thought rolling off his bed and scrambling to his feet.

IT'S ALREADY THREE AND I HAVEN'T SHOWERED OR GOT BRUSHED MY TEETH! He dropped to his knees in front of the trunk at the foot of his bed. and began rummaging through his cloths.

TO DIRTY! TO SMALL! TO WEEABO! TO FEMININE!He threw the discarded clothes over his shoulder as he went throught.

"Oh god oh god oh god!" he said through gritted teeth. He lept to his feet and dashed to the dresser in the corner on the other side of his room. He hastily opened the top drawer and dig through that too still panting "Oh god."

"Keep Calm." A voice said soothingly. The voice had the same accent as Arthur but faintly behind it a rich accent that sounded like his mothers could be heard. Arthur shot his head up to look in the mirror on top of his dresser. His reflection morphed to have a sharper, more "masculine" jaw line slightly broader nose, freckles and thick lemon blond hair. The reflection took off his hood, for he was wearing the same cloths as Arthur, and brushed the bangs out of his face.

"Keep Calm And Carry On." the voice smiled.

"I can't Olivier! I have a date tonight with Francis and I don't have a thing to wear!"

"Yes You Do. Look At All The Clothes On The Floor. This Isn't A Big Formal Date, This Is A Trip To The Fair In Brookstend. Wear Something Casual But A Bit Nicer. Clean If You Can Find It. But Most Importantly Keep Calm."

Arthur stretched his arms out and bowed his head between them letting out a strained breath. He stood back up and looked at Olivier, who was mirroring his movements.

"Ok. What should I do first?" He asked.

"Shower. When Was The Last Time You Took One?"

"Oh ha ha." But very true. Bro hasn't taken a shower for a few days and the shine on his bangs could almost make a lense flare if you got him at the right angel. Arthur rolled his eyes and left his room.

Arthur made his way through the manner undetected and up the stairs to the second floor. He passed his father's study and caught a glimpse of the detestable look he was giving him out of the corner of his eye. He pretended not to notice and continued to the bathroom in the next room.

He took a shower. That's all you're getting. I'm not going into detail of a shower I've filled this chapter with enough filler and bullshit character development. He got out of the shower, dried his hair off with a few shakes of a towel and wrapped the same towel around his waist. He walked up to the merroir and rubbed the steam from where he was standing. He gave a hateful glare at his gross body. Twiggy and tubby at the same time. Some how. His arms were thin as twigs and that carried to his shoulders chest and legs. You could faintly see the shadow of his ribs in the vanity lighting around the mirror. His gut, however, felt like it was muffin topping over the towel. He was glad when his reflection changed into Oliver, who actually had meat on his bones and a flat stomach.

"Hello." He said swavely.

"Hi, so showered and clean. Now what?"

"Get Your Cloths Back On And Eat Something. Enough So That if He Offers To Buy You Something Or You Buy Him Something You Can And Not Still Be Hungry Afterward." That's actually a really good idea. Take note people take note.

Arthur got back into his sweats and hoodie pulling the hood up so that the back of his head rested on the crest of the hood. Also so that the hairs on the back of his head won't spike up up and peacock. Which is when the hair… I just said what it was I don't need to explain it again. He went down stairs and went to his room through the living room. His Parents and Penelope were watching TV on the couch while Peter sat beside them on his tablet. He was silent but mothers can hear silence.

"Arthur! we missed you at dinner!" She chimed turning to him. Arthur froze on the spot.

"What are you talking about Victoria he was their." Markus said not taking his gaze away from the TV. Victoria shot him a look and hit his shoulder then gave an embarrassed laugh.

"Where were you sweetie?" She asked even though she totally didn't actually care.

"Either in my room or taking a shower." Arthur said still frozen.

"That would have to be quite the long shower." Penelope giggled.

"He would do that though." Markus said.

"You're just as bad as the boys!" Victoria said through gritted teeth.

"It was." Arthur said disappointed. Penelope began to speak again but Arthur was done and went back to his room before she could get a word out.

Once safely in his room Arthur shook the conversation out of his head and made a disgusted noise. He took off his hoodie and threw it on his futon then ran his fingers through his hair, instantly drying it with a few strokes. He walked to the trunk in front of his bed he was at before kicking and turning over the shirts on the ground.

I should get more pants. He thought realizing he really only did have his black jeans and sweats. Hot damn like just, wow… Got enough band tees thought. He knelt in front of the trunk again and shifted around the rest of the mainly black shirts. He knew what he was going to wear, he was thinking in the shower, where most things get decided, and remembered last Christmas his grandmother had given his a different sweatshirt to try and get him to "Stop wearing that raggedy old thing he always wore." It was resting folded like the day he got it. It was the only thing folded nicely in his room and it rested at the very bottom with the other colored shirts he had. He held it up by the shoulders to take a good look at it.

It was thinner and brick red with light gray lightning. It was of course a hoodie but the hood was styled to be worn over the shoulders because of the buttons that were attached on the shoulders and outside of the hood. It zipped up over the center of the left breast up until the armpit where it went diagonal to the center bottom of the hood. Over the diagonal part of the zipper were two completely useless button straps that did add something nice to the sweat shirt. The sleeves Arthur hated though, they were meant to be rolled to the elbows and buttoned in place with a strap but Arthur never would. His arms aren't necessarily the best things about his physique and he liked to keep them hidden, even in the heat of summer.

He tossed it in the air and caught it with one hand and stood. He then began investigating his floor in search for a shirt to wear. He scanned left and right holding her sweatshirt closely to his chest because for some reason he thought that would help him looking for a gray heather shirt. He gently moved a few piles of shirts to look under them but to no avail. He frowned his bushy brow and puckered his lips turning to the mirroir. Oliver stood in his place and shrugged. Arthur sighed then closed his eyes and whistled a C#. For every non choir/band geek that's a c sharp, and its high. When he opened his eyes his entire eyeball was orange with no visible sign of his iris or pupil. But he could still see. Because magic. He began scanning his floor again but this time in the more literal sense. From his POV (point of view for the less internet savvy) the entire room was covered in a transparent orange and as he searched whatever he was looking for would be highlighted and the shape covered in the same orange as his eyes. He found the shirt he was looking for buried on his futon. With a hard blink of his eyes they went back to normal and he happily a lot of unnecessary steps in getting to the futon.

He dropped to his knees and shoved his hand under the pile of things feeling for and successfully pulled out the gray heather tee shirt with a fuzzy black mustache across the chest. It was his favorite shirt and considered to be his lucky shirt. Well, not really considered. Is his lucky shirt, three years ago when he got the shirt he was learning charms and casted a luck charm on the shirt. He doesn't even know if it worked, because charms are tricky like that, but he believed it did and I guess that's good enough.

He threw on the shirt and sweatshirt, grabbed his pants from by his bed and went back to the mirroir.

"Ok." He said to Oliver. "How's this?" Oliver paused a moment and looked at Arthur with his hand under his chin. Then smiled.

"Very Nice. You Going To Put On Your Overpowering Eyeliner And Not Comb Your Hair? Like You Always Do?" Arthur shot Oliver a look.

"I could tone it down, and maybe do something with my hair. Maybe." Arthur moved closer to the dresser and opened the top left drawer. Inside is where Arthur kept his… primping… things… His make up and hair stuff. There were quite a few half inch long stubs of eyeliner pencils and three new fresh pencils and one half used pencils. All of these were black of corse, black gel pencils. He had one black liquid that came in a set with clear sparkles and brown. He got a gold liquid pen when the Hunger Royale movie came out. Never used. He also has two large sets of vibrant colored eyeshadow pallets given to him secretly by his grandmother. He also has a brush and two combs along with some pomade, hair gel and a can of hair spray. Oh, and also had one tube of primer. The stuff you put on your eyelids so your eyeliner doesn't get in your creases or turn into eyeshadow by the end of the day.

He pulled out the primer and used eyeliner pencil and applied both. Because it would be bullshit filler even more if i described the process. Side note though, Oliver helped Arthur get his right eye because it is freaking impossible to get the right eye as perfect as the left. Then Arthur did something daring. He got ouT THE POMADE! LE GASP! Naw but he defined the part in his hair and kept his hair over his left eye. (btw, when i say his left i mean his left. like when you look down at your hands and make L's with both hands)

He took a good look at Oliver and vice versa. Both boys agreed that they looked… good. Arthur could have sworn as well that he even felt…

CONFIDENT

This was weird for him, but it was a ok weird. He gave a pleased laugh from his gut before smirking at himself and leaving.

Then went back in his room grabbed his phone and left again


End file.
